What if No One's Watching
by Lozateazer
Summary: RENTfic. M/R-y. Pre-RENT. Songfic. Ani. Read.


Title: What if No One's Watching

Author: Logan M. (Lozateazer)

Disclaimer: Not mine. Jon Larson owns the boys and Ani Difranco owns the song and the title. If you sue me, I shall laugh. I am a very poor girl. You will get… well… um… I am a very poor girl.

Summery: Pre-RENT songfic. M/R-y.

Notes: This song brings up good memories for me. It was the first Ani song I ever heard, well over a year ago. Me and some gay friends of mine went on an outing—*realizes how bad that sounded* Me and some friends went to Seattle to go shopping. I've had problems believing people like me, and so going out with them was a big step for me. But that's moot. Anyway, we got into the car, and they put this on. I fell in love. I realized today I had to do a songfic for it. It's really a great upbeat song. I just am tired and sad. Please don't judge Ani based on my fic *nods*

_Italics_ = Lyrics

Rating: PG-13

**_~*~ What if No One's Watching ~*~_**

©May 1st, 2003. 12:30-1:49 am.__

_If my life were a movie / there would be a sunset / and the camera would pan away / but the sky is just a little sister / tagging along behind the buildings / trying to imitate their grey_

Zoom in on Mark, standing on the sidewalk of the cold New York street, staring at the sunset. For once his battered 16mm is not seen clasped in his hand, yet no one notices. No one notices the missing camera; the cameraman.

He doesn't know how long he stands staring at the sky, but before he realizes it the sky has turned a dark grey, finally melting into black.

_the__ little boys are breaking bottles / along the sidewalk / the big boys, too / the girls are hanging out at the candy store / pumping quarters into the phone / 'cause they don't want to go home_

 A burst of far-off laughter pulls him from his reprieve. Pan left. A group of youthful radicals smile and joke, making their way into a nearby club. Girls who could be no older then twenty are hanging off the boys, the boys are popping pills and smoking something Mark can't identify.

Close in on Mark, who is oddly drawn to the children. _They_ seem to be having fun.

_And I think, / what if no one's watching / what if when we're dead, we're just dead / what if it's just us down here / what if god ain't looking down / what if he's looking up instead_

Cut to Mark's eyes. They're darting around, scared of what he sees. Zoom out. He's standing in the center of the packed club, sweaty bodies pushing against him, oblivious to anything except the music and their heartbeat. Mark holds steadfast. No one cares.

Growing up he was always told that god was always with him; that he was never alone. Mark never believed this. He knows he's alone. He doesn't believe.

_If my life were a movie / I would light a cigarette / and the smoke would curl around my face / everything I do would be interesting / I'd play the good guy / in every scene_

Fade to Mark sitting on a barstool, his eyes glued to the bar itself. Pan to the untouched drink sitting in front of him, an equally unused yet tattered box of Marlboros next to it. Pan back to Mark sitting. Unmoving. Uninteresting.

Mark always loved movies; they were his passion. His mind worked like film, and he was the star. Zoom in on his face. Scared, alone, the antihero.

_but I always feel I have to / take a stand / and there's always someone on hand / to hate me for standing there / I always feel I have to open my mouth / and every time I do / I offend someone / somewhere_

Cut to the bar. Mark's hand slams down onto it, releasing the bills that were clenched in it. The hand grabs the box of cigarettes. Cut to Mark, shoving the fags into his coat before attempting to leave. …Attempting.

"MOVE THE FUCK OUTTA THE WAY!!"

So there was a reason this was the bar he chose. He wills his eyes to glance up at the source of the voice, before looking returning to the ground. He can't say anything. He's never been able to say anything. Not anything worthwhile, anyway.

Cut to Roger, confused. "…Mark?"

_But what / what if no one's watching / what if when we're dead, we're just dead / what if there's no time to lose / what if there's things we gotta do / things that need to be said_

Zoom in on the false, yet cocky, smile that creeps onto Roger's face after a moment. "I didn't see you come in…"

"I know." No one ever sees him come in.

Zoom out, showing Roger's once again confused expression. "What are you doing here?"

Cut to Mark, still staring at the floor. His mind is screaming to tell him the truth; to tell him that he had been looking for him; to tell him that he was worried, but only had chosen this particular club to try and figure out what his newest roommate saw in them. It was now or never, Mark knew. Zoom in on Mark's indecision. But he also knew it needed to be said. "I came to find you; to bring you home."

Cut back to Roger, motioning over to the drink being removed from the bar. "Oh yeah, you came to look for me."

"Just come with me, Roger."

_You know I can't apologize / for everything I know / I mean you don't have to agree with me / but once you get me going / you better just let me go_

"Why the fuck did you do that?! It's not even tomorrow yet, Mark!! God, you're such an asshole!!"

Zoom in on Mark, determined not to say a word. He knew if he hadn't of gotten Roger, his latest friend would end up shooting heroin into his system. Roger didn't think it was wrong. Mark knew better. But he wasn't about to argue with him. But at least tonight he was still sober.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?!"

_we have to be able to criticize / what we love / say what we have to say / 'cause if you're not trying to make something better / as far as I can tell / you're just in the way_

Zoom out on Mark, lashing around to face the man who for the past month he had dedicated his entire life to. His entire being was devoted to Roger, and yet the other remained oblivious as he poured chemicals into his system.

"Are you really _that_ fucking dense, Roger?! I got you out of there so you wouldn't fuck yourself over!! Do you have any idea how incredibly horrible what you're doing is?! You're killing yourself!! I wanted to get you out, I _want to help!! Let me help you!!"_

Cut to Roger, instinctively folding his arms against his chest, his own eyes cast downward.

"I'll do anything, Roger!! I care about you so much, and I don't want to see you hurt!! We could fix this, together!! You could go to rehab, and I could help, and we could do this, _together!!" _

Close in on Roger, trying not to notice the excessive use of the word together.

_I mean what / what if no one's watching / what if when we're dead / we're just dead / what if it's just us down here / what if god is just an idea / someone put in your head_

Together. He liked that word. Zoom in on Roger's forming smile. Cut to Roger leading Mark off to one side, looking around, making sure no one was watching.

"I'll try, Mark."

And suddenly, for no apparent reason, the filmmaker didn't feel so alone in the world.

_I mean what / what if no one's watching / what if no one's watching_

"But only if we do it _together."_

Cut to Roger tenderly placing his lips on Mark's.

_If my life were a movie / there would be a sunset / and the camera would pan away / but the sky is just a little sister / tagging along behind the buildings / trying to imitate their grey_

Zoom in on Mark slowly pulling away, mentally cursing himself. "Life isn't a movie, Rog." He's near tears. "We can't just ride off into the sunset."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not that simple."

"Let me prove you wrong."

After much deliberation on Mark's part, the young boys walk home hand in hand.

_I mean what / what if no one's watching_

Fade to Roger sneaking out of the loft once no one's watching; going to get his precious poison.

Pan to Mark sitting in the dark kitchen, tears streaking his cheek.

_what__ if no one's watching…_

~fin~


End file.
